Tradition
by Dani-Ellie03
Summary: "Why, what did you do in New York on stormy days?" "We watched scary moves," Henry answered with a grin. "Mom would make popcorn and we'd curl up on the couch with blankets and put on as many scary movies as we could." (or, the Charming Family and Captain Swan take on horror movies)
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Tradition  
><strong>Summary: <strong>"Why, what did you do in New York on stormy days?" "We watched scary moves," Henry answered with a grin. "Mom would make popcorn and we'd curl up on the couch with blankets and put on as many scary movies as we could."  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> Set post-3x22, "There's No Place Like Home."  
><strong>RatingWarning: **K+, for language, mostly. Charming Family & Captain Swan bonding, as per usual.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> _Once Upon a Time_ and its characters were created by Eddie Kitsis and Adam Horowitz and are owned by ABC. These are all someone else's toys; they're just kind enough to let me play with them.  
><strong>Author's Note:<strong> This is just a random little mini-fic I needed to get out of my head before the show comes back and renders it moot. I'm figuring I'll get five or six chapters out of this puppy. Charming Family and Captain Swan silliness lays ahead, with a dash of family bonding and healing thrown in as always! Also as always, feedback makes my little day. Hope you enjoy!

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><p>The overcast sky that morning was an omen, and Emma Swan should have taken it as one. When the morning that was forecast to be bright and warm dawned gray and chilly, she should have canceled her family's outdoor plans the second she got out of bed.<p>

A big chunk of the reason she hadn't was because a certain pirate had insisted that the clouds would burn off by mid-morning and the day would turn out just as sunny and mild as forecast.

"A pirate knows his skies, love," he'd assured her in that soft, pleasant accent of his. (And good God, what that accent did to her. Not that she would ever admit that out loud, of course.)

She'd listened to him – see above re: accent – but she should have stuck with her gut. Pirates may well know their skies but they didn't know them a hundred percent of the time. Just as the entire family plus the pirate in question assembled in the middle of the loft apartment that seemed to Emma a whole hell of a lot bigger when she only shared it with Mary Margaret Blanchard, the skies opened up.

Sheeting rain poured from the dark clouds and thunder rumbled low in the distance. David winced, Henry frowned, baby Neal whimpered, and Emma groaned before whirling around to face a sheepish Killian, a single eyebrow arched in mild annoyance. "'A pirate knows his skies,' huh?"

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Henry trying to hide an amused smirk at her tone. Killian cleared his throat as a blush colored his cheeks. "Aye, well, no pirate can know with absolute certainty what the day will bring, of course."

Emma found it kind of adorable when he tried to backtrack like that. Not that she would ever admit _that_ out loud, either. "Uh huh," was all she said out loud.

"So, no weapons lessons?" Henry asked, his frown refusing to budge as he wandered over to the window to look out at the sheeting rain. Emma was mentally thrown back to when he used to stand at the window of their apartment in Boston on rainy days, waiting for the first sign that the weather was clearing so he could go out and play.

Then she remembered with a pang of sadness that those memories weren't even real. _Damn_ it. "No weapons lessons," she confirmed through a soft sigh. "I'm not going outside in that rain, period, and none of us should be holding a sword in an electrical storm. The last thing we need is to turn ourselves into human lightning rods."

This really freakin' sucked. Since Emma's return from the past, David had been making noises about wishing he'd had the chance to teach her some techniques with the sword. And maybe seeing him all dressed up in his princely clothes in the past had helped her finally make the mental connection between David and Prince Charming or maybe it was another remnant of emotional brick wall crumbling around her, but damn it, she really wished he'd had the chance, too.

And then it hit her that she'd picked up the sword out of necessity, not because she'd had any real experience with the weapon. At that realization, the lonely little girl inside her had reacted before the independent adult had had the chance to censor her. The touched, loving look in David's eyes when she'd suggested that he help her with her technique made her glad that the little girl had gotten her way.

One would think she'd given him the gift of a lifetime. Unbeknownst to her, he felt like she had. And it was that look in her father's eyes that made Emma turn to her mother and ask, "And when we're done, could you maybe let me shoot your bow and arrow?"

Snow's expression had matched her husband's, and Emma had never felt such an inward explosion of love and joy and comfort in her life.

The plan had been for David to handle sword technique with Emma while Killian worked on the same with Henry and Snow sat with Neal. At some point to be determined later, Snow was then going to take over teaching duty for David and he would watch the squirt.

It would have been an absolutely wonderful plan were it not for this damn rain.

Just as a bummed-out Henry turned away from the window, Snow emerged from the bedroom with a diaper bag hooked over her shoulder. "That wasn't thunder I just heard, was it?"

"'Fraid so," Emma sighed. "And it's pouring to boot. Looks like our plans are canceled for the day."

She did not mistake the disappointment that flitted across both her parents' faces. Her heart skipped a beat when she realized that they had been looking forward to the afternoon just as much as – or more than – she had.

Stupid goddamned rain.

Snow was the first to outwardly shake off her disappointment. "No big deal," she said, forcing a smile and taking the still-fussing squirt from David's arms. "We'll just have to make new plans."

Emma raised her eyebrows. New plans? It was pouring rain! "Oh, yeah? Like what?"

Everyone mulled that over. What the hell could six people – well, okay, four adults, a twelve-year-old, and a newborn baby – do together in the pouring freakin' rain?

Henry looked like he had a suggestion but for whatever reason, he kept quiet. When the silence stretched out an almost uncomfortable length of time, the kid finally spilled. "Maybe we could do what we always did in New York on stormy days?" he asked Emma, his tone somewhat hesitant.

Which would have been a perfectly good suggestion … if it were the two of them. "I don't know if that's something everyone else is going to want to do, though, kid."

David frowned at her. "Why, what did you do in New York on stormy days?"

"We watched scary moves," Henry answered with a grin. "Mom would make popcorn and we'd curl up on the couch with blankets and put on as many scary movies as we could. The ghost ones, though, not the killer ones. Mom says I'm not old enough for the killer ones."

Damn straight he wasn't. Ghosts were fantastical (well, to her at the time; now that she'd participated in a séance and her mom had been possessed by a ghost, she had to admit that ghosts weren't so fantastical now); serial killers were not. And they always watched the same movies so Henry got desensitized to them fairly quickly. All in all, it ended up being less "scary afternoon" and more "odd little mother and son tradition."

It would be interesting when Regina found out about it, to say the least.

"Right, but scary movies aren't everyone's cup of tea," Emma gently reminded her kid. And oh boy how she knew that. An older boy in one of her foster homes had forced a seven-year-old Emma to watch _The Exorcist_ and she'd hated every minute of both the movie and the subsequent nightmares. She was damned if she was going to force anyone in her family into an afternoon of scary-movie-watching if scary movies weren't up their alley.

Her parents looked at each other, one of those looks that lasted all of three seconds but during which they conducted an entire conversation. Eventually Snow shrugged and David shrugged in return. "I'm game," he said, turning to his daughter and grandson.

"I am, too," Snow nodded.

Emma's eyebrows shot to the ceiling. Her parents were willingly going to sit there and watch scary movies with them? Well, David wasn't so much a surprise but Mary Margaret Blanchard had pretty much squirmed through _Poltergeist_ the one time Emma had watched it back before the curse broke.

Then again, her parents weren't just anyone. Her parents were Snow White and Prince Charming. They'd survived war and sleeping curses and her mom knew how to _kill an ogre_, for crying out loud. Some special effects on a television screen and some loud strings or drums on a soundtrack was probably child's play to them.

All right, so her parents would be fine, but there was one more helpless little member of her family to consider. "What about the squirt?" she asked.

David and Snow exchanged a touched smile. "Emma, your brother isn't even a month old yet," David gently reminded her.

"He's going to have no idea what's on the TV," Snow continued, "and if the sounds bother him, we can deal with it then."

Now that she thought about it, her newborn baby brother was probably going to sleep through a good portion of the afternoon anyway. Thunder rumbled again, low in the sky and reaching a crescendo that seemed to be just above the apartment building. Excitement lit Henry's eyes as he turned her. "Oh, come on, Mom, please? It'll be so perfect."

Again, Emma darted her gaze to her parents to gauge how they really felt about Henry's plan. And holy crap, were they totally on board. There was a pleading look in their eyes, and it took her an embarrassingly long moment to recognize that it wasn't at all about the movies for them. No, for them, it was a chance to share in this little family tradition she and Henry had made for themselves.

It was a chance to be close to them, a chance to spend an afternoon with their family, even if it wasn't doing what they'd originally planned.

And honestly, how could she deny them that? "All right," she sighed, nodding to Henry, "go upstairs and get the movies."

Henry grinned a thank you and took off for the loft, practically climbing the steps two at a time in his excitement. Emma gave an indulgent roll of her eyes.

"Do we know what movies are on the agenda?" David asked as he moved into the kitchen proper. He set a pot on the stove before digging into the cabinet for the vegetable oil and popping corn.

"If the kid follows pattern, I'm sure we'll be watching _Poltergeist, The Others_, and _The Skeleton Key_," Emma said, shrugging. "All ghost-type supernatural stuff." Although, with its hoodoo spells and caveats about magic not working until one believes in it, _The Skeleton Key_ might just be a little more chilling now.

David nodded, it was clear he only just barely recognized the titles.

Emma hid a smirk when Snow gave a just barely visible shudder at the mention of _Poltergeist_. "Oh, come on, it's not that bad," she teased her mother.

"No, it probably won't be now," Snow admitted. "It was, however, a little intense for someone whose most terrifying experience was teaching small children for twenty-eight years."

"That's plenty terrifying," Emma deadpanned.

Snow smirked at her. "My point was, I had never seen a scary movie until the day you plopped down on the couch and turned _Poltergeist_ on."

Emma blinked at her. "Not even in your fake memories?"

"Not even in my fake memories."

"Wow."

Snow smiled at her and then carried the squirt into the living room so she could begin setting up for their afternoon of lounging in front of the TV. David poured the oil in the pot and waited for it to come up to temperature. Emma could hear Henry rummaging around upstairs, poking through the DVDs they'd brought from New York.

Now that things had quieted down a bit, a sheepish Killian turned to Emma. "I'm sorry about today, love. I honestly thought the clouds were going to burn off."

"It's okay," she said, giving him an understanding smile. "Even the people who get paid to predict the weather don't get it right."

He blinked at her. "People in this realm get paid to predict the weather?"

She smirked and opened her mouth with every intention of the concept of the weatherperson on the local news to him. Instead, she said, "Yep. People go to weather-predicting school and everything." It was the truth; meteorology was a science, at any rate. The completely bewildered expression on his face made her hide a smile. "Are you sure you're okay with what we're doing instead, though?"

"Of course," he answered. Emma had a funny feeling he didn't care what the hell they did, as long as he could do it with her. Before she had the chance to even mildly freak out about _that_, he added, "I just have one question."

"Oh, yeah? What's that?"

"What in the blazes is a scary movie?"

Emma grinned. She was the one who got to introduce Captain Hook to scary movies? Oh, _hell_ yes.

This? Was going to be _fun_.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** Once again, y'all are the best! Thanks for the follows and favorites and reviews! There is a method to my madness with what movies I'm choosing to have the family watch. (Well, there's a method for two of them ... the third one I chose simply because I thought of something funny I could do with it. :)) If you've seen them, it'll probably be obvious what I'm doing before I even get there. If you're not a fan of scary movies, that shouldn't matter, as I'm drawing parallels that have more to do with the overarching theme of the movies than the creeps and thrills. Hope you like the next part!

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><p>Of course today would be the day the kid decided not to follow pattern. Henry bounded down the stairs with three DVDs in his hand like Emma expected. Only one of those DVDs, however, was his usual standby.<p>

"What happened to The Others and The Skeleton Key?" she asked when he handed them to her, staring down at the two new titles in her hand.

"Why didn't you tell me there was a second _Poltergeist_ movie?" he countered, tapping the DVD in question with his finger.

She didn't have a ready answer for that, other than he'd never asked and they'd always watched the same ones. "There's actually a third one, too, but I didn't like it so I don't have it," she said instead. "And how the hell did we end up with _The Woman in Black_?"

Henry shrugged. "I was going to ask you how come you hadn't let me watch it."

"_I_ haven't even seen it." Which made it all the more odd that she owned it. She very rarely bought movies sight unseen. Had it somehow magically populated into her DVD collection with the creation of her and Henry's fake life? That was crazy but it sort of made sense.

About as much sense as anything having to do with magic made to her, at any rate.

She flipped _The Woman in Black_ over to read the blurb and – more importantly – check the rating. It sounded like a typical ghost movie and it was rated PG-13, so she felt comfortable handing it back to Henry with the two _Poltergeist _movies. "Yeah, all right. Go bring these into the living room and help your grandmother set up."

Henry grinned a thank you and took off for the living room. Emma smiled and then gestured for Killian to follow her into the kitchen so they could help her father with the snacks and drinks.

David was in the midst of making a second batch of popcorn. "We get two whole batches?" she asked, an excited grin pulling at her lips.

"We're feeding four adults and a twelve-year-old boy," he said, smirking at her. "A single batch would be completely destroyed before the opening credits of the first movie finished rolling."

Emma smirked as well. That was certainly the truth. The aroma of the popcorn was already making her hungry.

And since they had two whole big batches, Emma felt comfortable enough to put her own spin on some of it. She crossed to the cabinet to retrieve a cereal bowl and poured some of the already popped corn into it. Then she crossed to the other cabinet, retrieved a packet of powdered ranch dip, and sprinkled some onto the popcorn before giving it a quick toss.

David once again smirked at her, but Killian was completely confused. "What on earth are you doing, Swan?"

"Giving it a little kick," she replied, handing him a now-ranch-flavored tuft of popcorn.

A somewhat dubious Killian popped the kernel into his mouth. As soon as it hit his taste buds, his eyes positively lit up. "I take it you would like some, too," Emma said, hiding an amused smile.

"Aye."

"Take the batch," David said, smiling at his daughter. "Henry likes ranch popcorn, too."

Emma grinned a thank you and set about spicing up the first bowl of popcorn. Just as she finished, David dumped the second batch into another bowl. The air in the apartment smelled not unlike that near a popcorn stand at an outdoor carnival, warm and buttery and comforting, in its own way.

"All right," David said, bringing Emma back to the present. "I think we just need the drinks and then we'll be all set."

Emma smiled and handed Killian their popcorn bowl so she could grab the drinks from the fridge. "Will you take this in to Henry, please? And make sure he doesn't eat it all on us?"

He smirked. "Will do, love."

With her hands now free, Emma strode to the fridge and retrieved five bottles of water. It only struck her as she was closing the fridge that she hadn't even had to ask what anyone wanted. The family drink, of course, was cocoa, but hot chocolate and popcorn didn't exactly go together. With that taken off the table, water would be everyone else's first choice.

Well, soda would be Henry's first choice, but he knew better than to push her on that. And Killian had his flask, but rum and popcorn didn't go all that well together, either.

The point was, she was getting drinks for her _family_ and she hadn't had to ask what they would want. Such a little thing but oh God, how amazing it was.

"You got all that?" David asked, once again startling her back to the present.

"Yep," Emma answered. He smiled at her and carried the second bowl of popcorn to the living room.

Emma followed but hung back just past the bathroom as she tried to figure out where the hell to sit. Her parents had settled on the sofa, the bowl of popcorn on her father's lap and a very sleepy little squirt nestled in their mother's arms. Henry had stretched out on the floor and Killian had sat down next to him.

The lonely little girl within Emma longed to squeeze in between her parents and snuggle up with them like she should have been able to do her entire life. The rational adult within her was both kind of embarrassed by the little girl's desire and didn't want to leave Killian sitting on the floor with only a twelve-year-old for company.

It was only when she caught Snow regarding her with a concerned mother's gaze that she realized how long she'd been standing there, trying to decide what to do. When Snow frowned, silently asking if she was okay, Emma shook off the emotion, nodded at her mother, and decided to make the best of both worlds. She settled down on the floor at her parents' feet, back to the sofa. She grasped Killian's hand and tugged him closer to her.

A surprised Killian happily accepted and a grinning Henry shifted to snuggle up on her other side. "You never sit on the floor, Mom," he said as he dug into the popcorn.

"Yeah, well, we'll see how long I can last down here before my butt starts falling asleep," she teased.

As Henry pressed play on the remote control to start the movie, Emma felt someone's fingers begin to fiddle with her hair. There was no doubt in her mind that if she turned around, she would find her mother holding Neal in one arm so the other could play with her daughter's hair. She didn't turn around, though, because the lonely little girl had longed for a gesture like that, too.

"I don't understand what's so scary about this movie," Killian murmured to Emma as the opening scene played. "There's perfectly pleasant music playing and this is just a young family late at night."

Emma hid a smirk. "Just wait."

He didn't have to wait long. A couple minutes later, an onscreen little Carol Anne Freeling crept down the stairs and settled in front of the television, much like they were all doing now. Unlike them, though, little Carol Anne began holding a conversation with voices only she could hear through the television static. "Oh," Killian said, squirming slightly in his seat.

Beside Emma, Henry snickered. "Wait till he gets to the part where the creepy hand comes out of the TV," he whispered to his mother.

"Shh," she replied, swallowing a snicker of her own. That hand was the one jump scare in this movie that still made Henry jump.

The storm raging outside their own windows was indeed the perfect compliment to the movie, especially when it began storming onscreen. If Emma didn't know the movie as well as she did, she swore she wouldn't know where the fake thunder ended and the real thunder began. She looked behind her to check on her brother, and miraculously, he had managed to fall asleep despite the chaos outside.

"He sleeps like the dead," she whispered to her mother, amused.

"He takes after his sister in that regard," Snow whispered back, a teasing smile on her lips. Emma smiled sheepishly before facing forward again. A moment later, Snow resumed fiddling with her hair.

True to Henry's suspicion, Killian did indeed jump when the ghostly hand shot out of the Freelings' television set. "Bloody hell," he muttered, making everyone snicker.

"And this is still the tame part," Emma murmured to him.

He raised his eyebrows at her but remained silent.

As they movie played on, Emma took a moment to just let the activity settle. She was sitting at her parents' feet, watching a movie with them, her kid, her baby brother, and her pirate. It was an ordinary activity for an ordinary stormy day, but these circumstances were far from ordinary.

All her life, she'd wanted this exact same scenario. Well, okay, she'd never dreamed of having same-age parents and seeing (or whatever the hell she and Killian were doing) a pirate with a hook for a hand, but the overarching scenario – a quiet day just being with her family – was something she'd always wanted.

As a matter of fact, that was what had stuck with her most about _Poltergeist_. Not the ghosts, not the scares, not the even the storyline, but the very obvious love the family in the movie had for each other. This was a story of a family that would do anything for each other and of parents who would do anything for their children, up to and including walking head-on into a beast's lair in another dimensional plane to retrieve the little girl who had been stolen from them.

When she was a kid, she'd yearned for that. She'd longed for it and wished she'd had it. She could have done without the ghosts and the flying objects and the danger, of course, but that love of family and sense of home and belonging … God, how she'd wanted it.

And as she watched Steven Freeling explain to the parapsychologists that he didn't give a crap about what the hell was going on in his house as long as he could get his daughter back, she realized that now she _had_ it.

Right after the curse broke, Snow had followed her through a portal that, for all she knew, could have been leading to oblivion. Snow and David had both unblinkingly gone with her to Neverland to retrieve Henry from Pan's clutches. And Killian had followed her through a portal that, for all he knew, could have been leading to the days of the dinosaurs.

None of them had had any guarantee that they'd return home but they'd followed her anyway without the slightest bit of hesitation. They'd followed her because she was theirs, just like Diane Freeling walking into the portal in her little girl's bedroom closet that led to … well, who knew?

Suddenly overcome with emotion, Emma set the popcorn bowl down and shifted up to the sofa. Killian looked up at her, surprised by her sudden movement, but the second he caught the look on her face, he sent her an understanding smile.

Snow and David were both surprised, too, but neither one of them questioned it. Emma met Snow's gaze, and sudden wisdom flooded her mother's eyes. She wordlessly handed a sleeping Neal to Emma so she would be free to cuddle the baby who needed her more right now. And as Emma got her baby brother settled in her arms, Snow wrapped her own arm around Emma's shoulders, shifting closer to her grown-up baby girl.

David, too, shifted close enough to sling his own arm around her. No one said a word, for which Emma was immensely grateful.

For a long moment, Emma just sat in her parents' arms, letting their love for her and her love for them wash over her. It wasn't until she noticed Killian squirming on the floor again that she was drawn back to reality.

The pirate's reaction to all this was amusing the crap out of her. He was how many centuries old and had seen more things than anyone else in the room combined, and he was this unsettled over a simple scary movie?

A quick glance around the room proved that he was the only one squirming even a little bit. Snow and Henry had both already seen this – Henry multiple times – so they were perfectly fine. David was jumping in all the appropriate places but otherwise he was fine. Killian, on the other hand, was having quite the hard time sitting still.

"Are you all right down there?" she asked teasingly, nudging him with her toes.

"Perfectly fine, love," he said, which, yeah, right, "although I do have another question."

"Shoot."

"Why would someone record this poor family going through this and then put it out for public consumption?"

"The researchers are–" she started to explain, thinking he meant the parapsychologists in the movie.

"No, not the researchers," he interrupted. "There has to be people recording the researchers, does there not?"

It took her a minute to figure out what he meant, but when she did, all of his squirming made complete and total sense. "Killian, this isn't real," she gently explained, hiding a smile. "The family isn't really going through this."

He stared at her as if she had three heads. "But we're watching it on this magic box, are we not?"

Emma decided to let "magic box" go for the moment. "We are but it's all pretend. Those people aren't really a family. They're all actors. There aren't really any ghosts."

"What do you mean there aren't any ghosts? We've seen them! The figure making its way down the staircase with the orbs of light behind it–"

"Which is Mom's favorite part, by the way," Henry interrupted.

Everyone smiled at the kid, Emma because it was the truth and Snow and David because they liked having one more thing they knew about their daughter, even if it was something as simple as her favorite part of a movie. Then Emma returned her attention to her poor confused pirate. "The figure and the orbs weren't really there. It's called a special effect. None of this is real, Killian. It's all made-up, like reading a book. It's just a different way of telling the story."

Now he was frowning at her. "How did they make the ghosts appear, then? Magic? I thought this land didn't have magic."

Everyone seemed to be swallowing chuckles. "I supposed it is a kind of magic," Emma allowed, "though not the kind you're thinking of."

"Then what kind is it?"

She smiled at him, knowing her answer wouldn't help him in the slightest. "Movie magic."


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** I miss Snow & Emma. *heart*

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><p>Only when the ending credits of <em>Poltergeist<em> began scrolling up the screen did Killian release the death grip he had on the empty popcorn bowl. The tension in his shoulders relaxed as he let out a soft breath of relief.

Emma had to admit, it was kind of adorable.

"So," she said, hiding a smile as she once again nudged her pirate with her toes, "what did you think of your first scary movie?"

"I see now why they're called scary movies," he allowed. Henry choked on a snicker.

"Are you all right to watch another one?"

"Of course, love." Again, Emma hid a smile. No made-up story was going to best Killian Jones, it seemed, no matter how scary he found it and no matter how much it made him squirm.

Since she knew Henry was on board, Emma turned to her parents, shifting a slightly fussy little squirt in her arms. "How about you two? Are you okay with watching the next chapter in the Freeling family chronicles?"

"Absolutely," David said, smiling at his little girl. "That was very entertaining."

Not that Emma hadn't noticed the death grip he'd had on the arm of the sofa. Still, she took him at his word because her reaction to scary movies mirrored his. She loved the way scary movies could fill her with tension and heighten her senses. She may have had to squeeze a pillow or a corner of a blanket but she loved every second of it … as long as it wasn't real, of course.

And holy crap, she took after her dad when it came to this stuff?

Before she had the chance to boggle any further at _that_ realization, a smiling Snow added, "I'm up for the next chapter, too."

Emma smiled back. Watching a scary movie with Snow White was a very far cry from watching one with Mary Margaret Blanchard. After their first viewing of _Poltergeist_ during the curse, Mary Margaret had insisted on putting something "happy" on the TV as something of a palate cleanser. A couple episodes of a mindless sitcom later, Mary Margaret had finally calmed down enough to move off the sofa.

"Before we start the movie, can we get something different to eat?" Henry asked.

Everyone but Snow snickered. Snow, on the other hand, pursed her lips as she tried to decide whether or not to allow her family to snack the entire afternoon.

"C'mon, Gramma, please?" Henry asked, sticking out his lower lip in a small pout. "This is what Mom and I would do in New York! Every time we started a new movie, we'd get a new snack."

A smug grin curled on Emma's lips when she realized that her kid was gearing up to give his grandmother his patented Puppy Dog Eyes. He was in the prelude to Stage One right now, and though Snow might be able to resist Stage One and even Stage Two, she'd never be able to say no to Stage Three. Emma still had a hard time saying no to Stage Three, and she had eleven years' worth of pretend memories of resisting the Puppy Dog Eyes under her belt.

Sure enough, Snow shot Emma a glance, silently asking if Henry was telling the truth. Emma nodded at her; this was indeed how stormy afternoons in New York went, with a new snack at the beginning of each movie.

The conflict in Snow's eyes was visible as she weighed the influx of snack food against allowing this family tradition to play out as it had in New York. And just as Emma thought she would, Snow relented with a soft sigh. "All right, we can get another snack."

"All right!" Henry exclaimed. He shot his grandmother a grateful smile as he pushed himself to his feet. He gathered the empty popcorn bowls and took them into the kitchen, the better to pore over the content of the cabinets for the next family snack.

A soft whimper drew Emma's attention down to her baby brother. He'd awoken during the climax of the movie but the neither the sounds from the movie nor the thunder still rumbling overhead had bothered him. As soon as he started to fuss, Emma had started with the gentle caresses of his forehead and he'd calmed right down.

For whatever reason, the gentle touches were no longer enough. Just as he screwed up his little face in preparation for a wail, David gently slipped the baby from Emma's arms. "He needs to be changed," he explained, smiling at his daughter. "We'll be right back."

As he disappeared into the bedroom to change the little squirt, Henry stepped back into the living area with a brand-new, unopened package of Double-Stuf Oreos. Emma grinned. There was no doubt in her mind that the entire package would be demolished less than ten minutes into _Poltergeist II_.

Upon spying the package in her grandson's hand and the subsequent sparkle in her daughter's eyes, Snow patted Emma's knee, pushed herself up from the couch, and headed into the kitchen herself. Both Henry and Killian turned a confused glance on Emma, who shrugged. What her mother was doing was beyond her.

Until Snow set a pot on the stove and pulled the gallon of milk out of the fridge, that is. Then Emma understood perfectly: her mom was making hot chocolate to go with the Oreos.

From the wise look in Henry's eyes as he handed over the Oreos, he'd figured it out as well. To her surprise, Killian figured it out, too. "Is she preparing that chocolate beverage you like so much?"

"She is," Emma confirmed.

Henry stepped away from the sofa to swap out the DVDs, and Emma decided to take advantage of the quiet moment alone with her pirate. She shifted back down to the floor and smiled apologetically at him. "I'm sorry we sprung that on you. I would have made it clear to you earlier that it wasn't real if I'd known you thought it was."

"I know, love," he assured her, a gentle smile on his lips. "No apologies necessary."

"You're sure you're all right to watch the second one? Because we don't have to if you don't want to. We can find something else to do–"

"It's fine, Swan," he said, chuckling slightly at her nervousness. "I've come to like this little Freeling family, even though they're not real. I want to see what happens next."

When she nodded, her shoulders relaxing in relief, he reached out and lightly caressed her chin with his thumb. Just as she was about to get lost in his baby blues, a snarky, young voice intoned, "Get a room."

Emma pulled away from Killian with a start and whirled around in the direction of the voice. And there was her kid, grinning smugly at both her and the pirate.

A sheepish Emma and a just as sheepish Killian both ducked their heads and faced forward in preparation for the second movie. Henry sat back down next to his mom with a smile that was equal parts pride at his mischief and happiness at their happiness.

David returned from the bedroom with a freshly changed little squirt just as Snow brought over a tray with five steaming mugs of cocoa. Each mug had the requisite dollop of whipped cream and sprinkle of cinnamon but she'd also got a step further and added a cinnamon stick to each as well.

"What's the occasion?" Emma asked as she took a mug from the tray.

"What's what occasion?" a confused Snow asked.

Emma indicated the cinnamon stick, leading Henry to explain, "She wants to know why you got all fancy-pants with the cocoa this time, Gramma."

"I don't think I would have phrased it quite like that," Emma allowed, "but yeah, pretty much."

"No occasion," Snow shrugged, hiding a smirk that betrayed her assertion. "I just felt like getting fancy-pants with the cocoa."

Yeah, right. Still, Emma didn't press her on it. Once everyone was settled – Henry, Emma, and Killian once again on the floor and Snow sitting on the sofa with David, who was cuddling the squirt – Henry started the movie.

For a few minutes, everyone sat quietly, munching their Oreos and sipping their cocoa. Killian was just as much a fan of Oreos as he was ranch popcorn, it seemed. "These little biscuits are delicious," he murmured to Emma as he snagged three more from the package.

She snickered. "When I was a kid, I used to open them up and lick the creme out of them."

He waggled his eyebrows suggestively at her – which, for crying out loud, her parents were _right behind them_ – before twisting apart one of his Oreos. "This is good, love," he said after he'd cleared the cookie of creme, "but I think the cookie will be a bit dry now."

"I never said I ate the cookie part."

Behind her, Snow heaved an amused sigh at her daughter's apparently lifelong sweet tooth.

Again, things were quiet. They did indeed demolish the package of Oreos in just about the ten minutes Emma had suspected. All of a sudden, Snow said, "Wait a second, did he just say it's been a year since the house disappeared? It's only supposed to have been a year between movies?"

"Yeah," Emma replied without taking her eyes off the television.

Snow pursed her lips. "Those kids are so much more than a year older."

"Well, yeah, because in real life, it was like three or four years." Then Emma turned an incredulous look on her mother something struck her. "Wait a second. We're watching a movie that deals with ghosts, clairvoyance, psychic mediums, and Native American mysticism, and _that's_ what's tripping you up?"

Everyone snickered as Snow gave a sheepish shrug.

It had been so long since Emma had seen this that she'd completely forgotten the key to the Freeling family defeating the evil entity that was trying to take their little girl. Only when Taylor, the Native American shaman sent to help the family, spoke it onscreen did she remember: "_He knows your strength is your love, and he hates you for that_."

And suddenly she was thrown back to a fight between her and an evil witch in the Enchanted Forest, a fight that had proven to her just how strong love was. Cora had been going to take Snow's heart, and without a thought to her own safety, Emma had shoved her mother out of the way. Cora's hand had plunged into her own chest instead but she couldn't take what she wanted for one simple reason: the True Love running through Emma's veins.

That power … that power was what had freed her from Cora's grasp and given her and her mom the time and opportunity to go home.

That love … that love was her strength, and the love of her entire family had brought them all back together against all odds, time and time again.

Suddenly overcome with emotion, Emma pushed herself to her feet. She needed to go because holy crap, she did not want any of them to see her breaking down over a line in a 1980s horror movie. She climbed the steps to the loft and sat down on the edge of her bed, trying to hold it together. She needed space, she needed air, she needed …

And then there were footsteps on the metal staircase. The softness of the footfalls told her who it was and so she was not at all surprised when her mom's soft voice called, "Emma? Are you all right?"

"Yeah," she shakily replied, even though it was an absolute lie. She wasn't all right, not at all.

Snow must have been able to tell as much because sure enough, she crested the top of the staircase and stepped into the little room. The second she got a good look at Emma's face, she eased down on the edge of the bed herself, grasping her daughter's trembling hands. "Talk to me, sweetie."

"It's nothing," Emma tried to insist but Snow fixed her with such a knowing look that she couldn't keep up the appearance. "All right, it's not nothing, but it is silly. I'd just … forgotten."

"You'd forgotten what?"

Emma looked into her mom's eyes, her mom's loving eyes, and suddenly, the truth came tumbling out. Part of her was horrified but part of her – the little girl part of her – clearly wanted to let it out. "Growing up, I always wanted a family like that. I always wanted a mom and a dad who would do whatever they had to for me. I-I always wanted someone who wouldn't leave me." Tears brimmed in her eyes, just as they were in her mom's. "It's taken me a long time but I have it now. And our love is our strength."

Snow pulled her into a hug and, acting on an instinct that she didn't understand, Emma melted into it. She wrapped her arms around her mother, squeezing tightly as Snow spoke softly into her ear. "You do have it now, Emma, and of course our love is our strength. It's our love for each other that makes us fight for each other and want to protect each other. It's our love for each other that gives us our resolve, and it's our love for each other that enables us to face anything that comes our way."

Emma didn't speak. Couldn't speak, actually. When she nodded, Snow continued. "I love you so much, sweetheart. I've loved you from the day I found out you were going to be born."

Oh, how Emma had needed to hear that. Her arms tightened around Snow even more as she murmured, "I love you, too."

Snow's breath caught in her throat at her baby girl's words and her grip around her daughter tightened, just as Emma's had. Clearly Snow had needed to hear that as well.

They stayed in the embrace until Emma calmed down. When a sheepish Emma pulled out of the hug, Snow smiled at her and dried her baby girl's tears with the side of her thumb. "Come on. Let's go back downstairs and finish this scary movie thing, hmm?" She stood, holding her hand out to her daughter.

Emma didn't even hesitate; she stood as well, slipping her hand into her mother's. And if more tears – _happy_ tears – pricked her eyes when Snow gave her hand a light squeeze … well, no one needed to know about them.


	4. Chapter 4

The ending credits for _Poltergeist II_ scrolled up the screen, once again leading Killian to let out a soft breath of relief. Emma hid a smile, watching out of the corner of her eye as pirate visibly relaxed now that the movie was over. Even though he knew none of it was real, it apparently still had the power to get him all worked up.

Not that Emma expected him to admit that out loud, of course.

"That one wasn't as scary as the first one," Henry said as he reached for the remote.

"You don't think so?" Snow asked. When the kid shook his head, Snow wrinkled her nose. "I thought Reverend Kane was terrifying."

"He totally was," Emma agreed. "He creeped me the hell out when I was a kid. One night a bunch of us snuck out of bed to watch this and we then proceeded to freak each other out all night long by singing or humming 'God Is In His Holy Temple' just like Kane. Add that to a sudden storm in the wee hours of that morning, and we were all terrified by dawn."

Everyone snickered at that. "How old were you?" David asked.

"Nine," Emma answered, then second-guessed herself. "Or maybe ten. I was at that group home for a while."

A loaded glance passed between her mother and father. _Damn_ _it_, Emma thought with a wince. Sometimes she forgot that not everyone gauged their age by which house they happened to be living in at the time.

Before anyone had the chance to dwell on that bit of accidental angst, Emma pushed herself to her feet, gathered everyone's empty cocoa mugs and the empty Oreo package, and took everything into the kitchen. Henry followed her, eager to prepare his next snack.

As Emma tossed the Oreo package into the trash can, Henry grasped the handle of the freeze. All of a sudden, Emma knew exactly what the family's third snack was going to be. "You better make sure you tell Killian you're planning on homemade ice cream sundaes," she murmured to her son. "He'll be over here faster than if I said there was a two-for-one sale on rum."

Henry grinned. They had previously discovered that the pirate had quite the taste for ice cream.

The kid did his due diligence and informed the rest of the family that create-your-own ice cream sundaes were next on the snack menu. Unsurprisingly, Killian stood to make himself a bowl and to Emma's shock, Snow stood as well. Emma arched an eyebrow at her mother, who grinned. "I figured if I can't beat 'em, I might as well join 'em," Snow murmured to her daughter.

Emma smiled and beat a quick retreat out of the tiny, overcrowded kitchen. She plopped down on the sofa with her father and baby brother. "All right, hand him over," she said, holding out her arms for the little squirt. "I haven't had near enough baby time today."

David smiled and gently passed Neal over to his sister. "How come you're not getting ice cream?"

"Don't really feel like it," she shrugged, her attention focused mostly on her baby brother. That attention was shattered when her father placed his hand on her forehead as if feeling for a fever. "What the hell are you doing?" she cried, ducking out of his reach.

"I figured you must be sick or something," he replied, his tone lightly teasing. "I never thought I'd see the day when Emma Swan turned down ice cream."

She rolled her eyes but she couldn't stop the amused smile from tugging at her lips. God, her dad had such lame dad jokes. Well, even lamer dad jokes than normal.

He smiled at her as well but then lowered his voice, true concern in his eyes. "Seriously, though, are you all right? When you took off … I was worried."

"Fine." And there was that knowing expression on his face, the same one that had been on her mom's face upstairs. The one that Emma was having an increasingly difficult time avoiding or ignoring. Something about that look made her want to confide in them, made her want to trust them. Something about that look – that _loving_ look – made her feel like a little girl wanting her mommy and daddy to make it better. "Really, I'm okay. I just … needed a break."

A frown flickered across his features. "A good break or ..."

"A good break," she assured him. "It was just … seeing and hearing it on TV made me realize what I have now. I have a family that loves me, and I have a family that I love. And our love is what makes us strong."

David smiled, tears of joy welling in his eyes. He leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to the side of his baby girl's head. "And you'll have it forever now, kiddo."

"I know," she whispered, smiling up at him while swallowing the lump that had suddenly risen in her throat. And right then, Neal gurgled contentedly and wrapped his little hand around her finger. Emma smiled down at her baby brother and ran the thumb of her thumb over his tiny little fingers. "And you'll have it forever, too, squirt. We'll all make sure of that."

The ice cream brigade returned from the kitchen then, sundaes in hand. To the surprise of absolutely no one, Snow's bowl consisted of two relatively tiny scoops of chocolate ice cream while Henry's was basically a bowl of candy and sundae toppings with some cookie dough ice cream thrown in to give it an air of legitimacy. Killian's was somewhere in between the two: a proper sundae with chocolate ice cream, hot fudge, and whipped cream.

Henry set his bowl down so he could swap out the DVDs, removing _Poltergeist II_ from the player and inserting _The Woman in Black_ in its place. Much to everyone else's amusement, Emma reached down and snagged a couple of Reese's Pieces out of his bowl while his back was turned.

"How scary is this one?" Snow asked.

"Couldn't tell you," Emma shrugged. "I haven't seen it."

Snow chuckled teasingly. "Uh oh."

And right from the opening scene, Emma wondered if maybe she should have watched this one first before plunking her entire family down in front of it. "Kid, you all right?" she asked somewhat hesitantly, her comforting grip on her baby brother tightening almost unconsciously.

"Yep," came Henry's very distracted reply.

"Killian, how about you?"

"Fine, love," Killian answered, also very distractedly.

Emma heaved a sigh. They both were, pardon the pun, already hooked. Stopping it was not going to be an option, then.

For the most part, things were fine. Tense but fine. An oblivious Neal wriggled in his sister's arms as the movie played, his little hands waving through the ends of her hair. Snow and David slowly shifted closer to both their babies, probably out of a sense of parental protection. Watching a movie in which a ghost seemed to be going after a village's children – with deadly results – seemed to do that to a parent, as Emma herself kept glancing down at Henry.

Of course, her kid was just fine, as was her pirate. They'd both finished their ice cream and were staring at the television in rapt attention.

Emma herself was so drawn into the movie that she started when Neal began to fuss. Before she could even shift him in her arms to comfort him, Snow was taking him from her. "He's hungry," she murmured, and Emma nodded in understanding.

Snow took squirt into the other room for a feeding, leaving David and Emma alone on the couch. The two of them were quite the pair. The jump scares succeeded in startling them and they were both fidgeting in their seats, a result of the lack of release for the building dramatic tension.

Killian was squirming, too, though not nearly as much as during _Poltergeist_. Emma was willing to bet that knowing it wasn't real was the difference because in her estimation, _The Woman in Black_ was more intense than _Poltergeist_. Like, _far_ more intense. She was actually glad they weren't watching it at night. Henry, of course, seemed utterly enthralled.

At a very quiet part of the movie, a loud clap of thunder from outside scared the crap out of all four of them. "Holy shit," Emma cried over everyone's sheepish snickers, placing her hand over her pounding heart."I thought the thunder had stopped."

"It had," David confirmed. "Must be a second wave of the storm."

Wonderful.

The tension mounted and mounted as an onscreen Arthur Kipps spent a seemingly interminable night in a _very_ haunted house. Hardly aware of what she was doing, Emma reached over to her mother's side of the sofa, grasped the throw pillow, and drew it onto her lap.

It was just her luck that Killian happened to look up at her just as she squeezed one corner of the pillow in her fist. His eyes sparkled with mischief, and she could practically _feel_ the taunts coming. "You keep your mouth shut, pirate," she instructed before he had the chance to say a single word.

A grin curled onto his lips, making her glad she'd issued her warning. "I was merely going to offer my services in place of the pillow, Swan, should you so desire."

She arched an eyebrow at him.

David cleared his throat as if to say, "Not with my daughter, you're not."

Killian's face blanched as if he'd suddenly realized he'd just made that comment in front of her _father_. Still, he covered, giving David a smug smirk before facing forward.

When Snow returned with a full and content baby, she found her family practically huddled together. In what was probably a wholly unconscious effort, Emma had cuddled up to her father and tucked herself into his side while squeezing the life out of a throw pillow in her lap. Henry was practically sitting on top of Killian, who had backed himself up to her husband's legs. All four sets of eyes were glued to the television, where all manner of creepy things were playing out.

None of them seemed to have any awareness as to how closely they'd huddled and none of them had noticed her approach. Sensing an opportunity she would probably never get again, Snow shifted Neal in her arms and said as loudly as she dared, "So, what'd I miss?"

All four of them jumped a mile. Emma even let out a tiny scream.

A grinning Snow waited until her startled family's relieved chuckles began before asking lightly, "What's the matter? It's just a little scary movie."


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note:** You all are once again the best readers ever. Thanks for following along on this random bit of silliness/family bonding! I hope you've enjoyed. (And also, I did indeed find _The Woman in Black_ to be ridiculously creepy. Which is awesome, if you like that kind of thing - and I do. I just wasn't prepared for it because, y'know, PG-13. ;))

* * *

><p>After <em>The Woman in Black<em> was over, the only thing anyone in the living room could do was just sit and process. Emma recovered her voice first. "Um, the next time? I'm watching this stuff before I show it to any of you."

There was another beat of silence, and then Henry turned to her, eyes sparkling and an excited grin tugging at his lips. "That? Was awesome."

The kid may have thought it was awesome, but if Emma had had any idea it was that … intense, she wouldn't have plunked her entire family down in front of it. _That_ was only rated PG-13? Holy _crap_.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught her parents sharing a loving smile. Well, at least they weren't traumatized but why were they smiling?

And then it struck her: she'd inadvertently allowed them another first. This was her first _real_ scary movie with her parents. The two _Poltergeist_ movies didn't exactly count because she'd seen them before, but this one? This one was brand-new for all of them.

Wasn't that some kind of childhood rite of passage? She vaguely remembered kids in her classes at school talking about watching scary movies with their parents.

She was drawn from her reverie when Henry stood, collected the empty ice cream bowls, and took them to the kitchen. His action seemed to spur Killian into action. He glanced over his shoulder at Emma, still seated between her parents on the sofa, but to her surprise, he simply gave her a smile, stood, and joined Henry in the kitchen. The two of them began to wash the dishes that had built up over the course of the afternoon. Emma watched them a moment, thinking that Killian was managing to wash quite well with only one hand.

She shook herself back to the present once she realized she'd been staring at him. Her parents exchanged another smile, this one full of wisdom. Crap, they'd _caught_ her staring. "I'm, um, sorry about the movie, guys," she said, partly to divert their attention. "I didn't know–"

"It's perfectly all right, Emma," Snow assured her, smiling. Her gaze drifted from Emma's and locked on her husband's, who gave her an encouraging little nod. Snow returned the nod, took a deep breath, and refocused on her daughter. "Actually, it was more than all right. The content of movie didn't matter. The content of none of the movies mattered, really. What mattered was the time. Thank you for allowing us this opportunity."

Well, then.

Emma hadn't been expecting that, and as such, she was not at all prepared for it. An instinct that had been ingrained in her from lifelong experience burbled in her stomach, making her want to shut it down and run. But there was another instinct fighting to be heard, too, one that was becoming increasingly more powerful.

She had a family now. She had a family who would do anything for her, a family who would follow her to hell and back if it meant keeping her by their sides.

This new instinct was telling her she couldn't run. And more importantly, she didn't want to.

Before she had the chance to chicken out, Emma leaned into her mother's arms for a hug. Snow's soft but clearly surprised gasp filled her ear, which, for some reason she couldn't determine, only made her snuggle closer. Snow's arms encircled her, holding her tightly and making her feel … _safe_.

Emma felt her father's arm slip over her shoulders as he shifted closer. Clearly he didn't want to miss out on a family snuggle. Emma turned towards him slightly, making the group hug a little less awkward. And for a long beat, Emma just allowed herself to be held in her parents' arms.

They only broke apart when little Neal gurgled from his nest in David's other arm. "All right, squirt," Emma said, chuckling softly, "we'll pay attention to you, too."

But before Emma could lavish any more attention on her baby brother, Henry cried from the kitchen, "Gramma!"

"What's the matter, Henry?" Snow asked, sitting up straight as if suddenly on alert.

"Nothing's the matter. It stopped raining!"

A glance out the window proved the kid correct. The rain had indeed stopped and the sun was peeking out through the clouds, which weren't nearly as dark as before.

"Do you think we can do weapons lessons now?" Henry asked, his tone basically pleading.

Emma was hesitant. "Kid, it's all wet–"

"Sure," her parents said in unison.

Emma gaped at them. They _wanted_ to traipse outside while everything was still soaking wet just to do weapons lessons with her and Henry? After exchanging a slightly nervous glance with his wife, David refocused on his daughter and added, "If you want to, of course."

Oh God, she did. She really, really did.

"I do," she answered, much to her parents' relief. "I just … didn't think you'd want to bring the squirt outside."

"Since there was thunder, it shouldn't be chilly out," Snow replied, smiling gently at her daughter. "We can bundle him up and keep him dry as can be."

A touched smile pulled at Emma's mouth. She _really_ needed to get used to the idea that people would actually want to spend time with her, didn't she? "Thank you," she whispered.

"You're very welcome, kiddo," David said, brushing a thumb along her cheek. Then her parents both stood to get her brother ready for the trip outside.

Emma stood as well, heading to the kitchen. She shooed Henry upstairs to get ready and then took his place at the sink with Killian. "Are you up for weapons lessons?" she asked him.

"Aye, love," he said softly, handing her one of the ice cream bowls to dry. When their eyes met, he smirked at her. "I told you a pirate knew his skies. It cleared up after all."

"Yeah, five and a half hours after you said it would."

"Still cleared up, didn't it?" he teased. When she playfully rolled her eyes, he smiled. After a moment, though, his smiled turned slightly concerned. "Are you sure you're all right, though, love? This afternoon has been … difficult for you."

"I'm all right," she confirmed. She was more than all right, actually. That little girl inside her, the one who'd made herself known in Neverland, didn't feel quite as lost anymore, anyway.

From the gentle smile on Killian's face, Emma gathered that he knew that. He really could read her like a book, couldn't he? "I'm glad for that, Swan. It's wonderful to find your place in the world, isn't it?"

And in that moment, Emma got it. She wasn't the only one who'd found their place in the world.

They'd all allowed Killian to join in on their new little family tradition as well. He'd been just as lost as she had but he, too, was finding home. He'd found it with her … and now he was finding it with her family.

"It is," Emma replied, smiling at her pirate. She glanced over her shoulder at her parents and baby brother and then up at the metal staircase, where her son was descending laden with everything they needed for their weapons lessons.

She met Killian's smiling gaze with her own. "It really is."


End file.
